ghosts
by pedosmile
Summary: “Do you remember how you died?” It was a simple, innocent question, one that had no cruel intentions but she couldn’t help but feel as if he were mocking her. She sighed and murmured, “Of course I remember. It was the night I became a Noah..."


**ghosts**

This is just my spin on Road's past. So, of course it's AU and some things might be wrong.

* * *

"_Do you remember how you died?"_

It was a simple, innocent question, one that had no cruel intentions but she couldn't help but feel as if he were mocking her. As if he wanted to bring up the horrible imagery of her past, the ones that she had fought so long and hard to keep locked away in that little music box. The one she had never been able to throw away, not since _Tyki_ had found it for her.

For a long moment or two, she simply sat quietly, swinging her legs slowly, back and fourth, back and fourth. And she had her head bowed, eyes on her legs, looking as if she were in deep thought or concentrating on something.

And he sat patiently, studying her with curious gray eyes.

When she finally looked up, her molten gold eyes seemed almost _sad_ as if she were going to _cry_. But that wasn't possible, Noah's didn't cry. The only time he had ever recalled her crying was just a story, when she had told him of how Skin had died and Noah had mourned for him. Because Noah was crying, his children had, too.

She sighed, as if it were all so troublesome, and murmured, "Of course I remember. It was the night I became a Noah… You know that, silly."

But, she looked troubled, as if she couldn't quite shake a feeling that she had. Her eyes were always giving her away now when she was with him, she didn't hide behind a tactful shell, one that just displayed only what she wanted others to see and nothing more.

And then she gave him a smile, small, fleeting, _heartbreaking._

She was so different then what she had used to be, she had changed ever since he had joined the family, ever since he had become the Fourteenth Noah. She was so much more… her age. So human, so tender. It was so odd to see her so vulnerable. So odd and strange.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said, voice soft though he had to admit, he was curious. He wanted to know what had happened that night, how it was for her, what she was like afterwards.

And she had seemed to sense this.

She lapsed into another thoughtful silence, brows furrowing, jaw setting, as if she were trying to hold back something. Her hands clenched at her skirt then smoothed it out, clenched then smoothed. She was falling back into the memories, drowning in them, though she was trying hard to push them all back into that little _box._ The one she had received when she was younger.

The one she had gotten on her eleventh birthday.

She hadn't even noticed that she was talking, telling him the story, she was just so _lost_ in the memories, trapped in her childhood again. She was being pulled back to that dreadful night, that bittersweet night where she was broken, shattered, left for dead and was reborn into something different, someone _new._

She could almost feel the fingers on her, the hot breath that was sour with whiskey, the burning in her forehead, her _bandaged_ forehead. She could feel him, she could feel her tears, running hot down her cheeks. She remembered the way he looked at her, the almost animal-like desire shining bright in his eyes, the same color as her own. She could remember the way he threw her to the ground, the belt tied tight on her wrists. Her innocence being broken even more, shattering. Her childhood being ripped away. She could feel _his_ fingers wrapped around her pretty little neck, squeezing tight, _tighter_, because she was a _witch_ and she had _charmed_ him to do this to her.

To his own _daughter._

That's what those markings on her head were, those strange _crosses_. That's why she had those horrible nightmares, that's why he had to do that to her, that's why he _was_ doing this to her now. That's why he had been doing it, those dirty little secrets that only they shared. Because God was _punishing _her for being a sinful child, for being a little _witch_ and trying to tear her mother and father apart. For trying to spread _lies_ about her father.

He did this because he had to rid the world of his _abomination_. Because God had _told him to._

And he had left her there, thought she had been dead, and she could just remember how much she _hurt._ How everything was on fire, how the pain of what her father had done to her was just a little silver thread compared to the fire that had engulfed her. How she could hear her own broken gasping, her own little sobs, her begging and pleading and the horrible ache in her forehead. It felt as it were splitting into two, it felt as if someone was ripping her out of her own body. As if they were trying to cleanse her of something. Was it God trying to pull the evil out of her, the _sin_ that had had consumed her and caused her the nightmares.

Had caused her father to do all of that to her?

Just when she thought it was over, when she had thought she was going to die - _she never did see a light _- just when the intense pain, the heated flames had reached a peak - _maybe she was in Hell, maybe that's why she had never seen a light_ - and she felt as if her body was about to give up, she felt someone's cool fingers brush across her forehead, across her open and fresh wounds.

And then a soft voice, _"Road. My dear Road, my Noah of Dreams… Open your eyes… It will be alright…"_ but she was afraid, not of this voice, but that she had died. That she had crossed over. And maybe, just maybe, if she kept her eyes closed, she would go somewhere else, she would wake up. That she wouldn't be dead, even though that's what she really wanted. Because if she were living, where would she go?

What would she do with herself…?

The voice was so soothing, so warm, as he coaxed her into opening her eyes, as he promised her that everything would be fine. When she opened them, when she looked up into the smiling face of her Millennium Earl, he was crying. For her, for what she had seen and what had been done to her. And she could only stare up at him blankly, though a sudden rush of warmth and love had filled her.

"_My dear child, my first Noah,"_ he was so sad, but she just found it odd how he was smiling. She found it odd how she was crying at the sudden intense love she had for him, the sudden connection. _"I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. Now you see what cruel things the world can do? Inside and outside of your dreams…"_ he was stroking her cheek.

And she could only stare up at him, confused, bewildered.

"_Noah…"_ she had whispered the word and it was so heavy on her tongue, so strange and new. She had heard of Noah, of course, she had read of him in the bible. Every child her age new the book, had committed it to memory, lest they burn in the lake of fire. But the way she had said it, the way his name sounded to her… It was as if she had never spoken it before, as if she were in awe because somehow she _knew_ of him. Of what he really was. Even before the Earl explained it to her all.

And then he had taken her into his arms, nursed her back to health, as if she were his own child, as if he were her father. But she couldn't get rid of the _nightmares_, the ones that plagued her, the ones that starred herself and her father. She could never fight off the phantom pains, she could never forgive him, she could never forgive her mother.

Her mother had never listened to her. This had all started on her eleventh birthday and had all ended just a week or two before her thirteen birthday. For nearly two years she had lived with it, with _him_ drinking himself into his little fantasy world, with _him_ touching her in places he shouldn't, watching her when he shouldn't. Her mother accused her of lying, but she knew her mother knew.

Because her mother was breaking down before her eyes. And her mother didn't care for her own child, she only cared for her own happiness. She had even banished Road from the house, had even called her a _whore_. Was her mother jealous? Was her mother breaking from the guilt, the fear?

She had to know.

As soon as she learned how to tap into her powers, the ones bestowed upon her from _Noah, _she had left, went back to her old home. But it wasn't _her_ home any more. It hadn't been _her _home since everything had gone wrong, since she had been eleven. And she had slipped into the house, the rage inside her building, expanding, exploding.

Especially when she saw them asleep in their bed, her _loving parents_, wrapped in each others arms', looking oh-so-_content._ As if nothing had ever happened, as if she had never existed. She was nothing, of course she wasn't.

And she would have fun. She would take her revenge, kill them slowly, painfully. Especially her father. But she would have her mother watch and she did. She had taken them to her _other_ world, the alternate reality that only _she_ could create. And she had tortured her father, had made her mother watch, had made her mother scream and scream and _scream._

"_You always said I was a witch, mother,_" she was laughing, showing that Noah grin, the one that had morphed her into something else, something _inhuman_. And she had danced in front of her mother, had slammed her father's head into her mother's lap, laughed into her mother's face. _"It seems like you and papa were right."_

She sneered at her mother as her mother prayed to her God, as her mother cursed at her.

"_Your God won't save you!_" she had laughed, kneeling down in front of her mother and taking her head into her hands, even though the older woman tried to fight her off. She was feeble, she was weak. One small and painful little squeeze made her stop, made her stare.

"_You are not my daughter,"_ she had spat it into Road's face and Road just smiled sweetly, laughter dancing in her golden eyes. _"You are the devil! A witch! You're dead!_"

"'_The devil, a witch',"_ Road mimicked before her face twisted with anger and disgust. _"I am dead! I died two years ago when _you_ gave me up to _him._ When _you_ gave me up to the _monster. _Do you want to know who the real devils are, mother? You and father. You're the devil's wife. And look what you two created!_" her mother was shaking her head, crying, sobbing, chanting something unintelligible.

"_Look at me!"_ she shook her mother roughly, voice too rough for a girl her age, filled with a dark, terrifying rage. _"Look at what I have become, look at what you so _lovingly_ helped to make!!" _her mother didn't look, she wouldn't open her eyes.

It had hurt Road more than anything that her mother, the woman she loved so much, was saying these things, that she had shunned her the day Road came to her with her terrible secret. She could never forgive her mother the most, because she was her protector.

"_Mother is God in the eyes of little children…_" Road had whispered, tears welling. The first and only time before Skin had died that she began to cry. And she supposed it was because Noah was crying for her, too, or perhaps it was just her. She was the one who was causing these tears, this sudden rush of emotion.

And then she had kissed her mothers forehead, tenderly, sweetly, ignoring everything her mother was saying to her. She slammed her mother's head back into the wall, hard, too hard, and she felt her mother's head crack beneath her, felt the blood and everything _else_ inside stain her hands.

"_But not this child…"_ and she had stepped back, hands hanging limply at her sides before she returned to the Earl, _her _Earl. Who was there to hold her as she cried and cried and _cried. And the tears just didn't seem to stop and he would rock her in his rocking chair, never speaking a word but always soothing her in some way until, finally, she had fallen asleep._

_Until she locked away the memories._

_She had stopped talking, she was looking away from Allen and at the floor, brought back from the past. She was crying again, the tears hot on her cheeks, and she just blinked in surprise, touching her cheeks gently. When she pulled her hand away to observe it, she just stared at it before letting out a small sob._

_And he wrapped his arms around her, whispering, "Road… it'll be okay, Road… Please don't cry…" and the only thing she could do was to cling to him, to hold onto him tightly and believe in his words._

_But she knew, deep down, that nothing would ever be okay, that nothing would ever be right. She was tainted with these horrible memories, with those horrible deeds. She could not wash it away, could not will it away, no matter how hard she may have tried…_


End file.
